


On the run.

by peachmilkk



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Criminal!Graves, Hostage Situations, Innocent Bystander!Credence, M/M, mild violence, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-06 15:16:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachmilkk/pseuds/peachmilkk
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple job. Just a regular hold up at some rickety gas station off of some country road in western New York. He went in, glock tucked in at his side, nothing but the mission on his mind. But when the moment he lifted his eyes from the scuffed linoleum to the store clerk, it suddenly wasn’t so simple.After a hold-up gone wrong, Graves finds himself running from the police with a hostage, Credence. As it turns out Credence is running from his own problems.





	1. Chapter 1

It was supposed to be a simple job. Just a regular hold up at some rickety gas station off of some country road in western New York. He went in, glock tucked in at his side, nothing but the mission on his mind. But when the moment he lifted his eyes from the scuffed linoleum to the store clerk, it suddenly wasn’t so simple.

Fluorescent lightening should cast anyone in a unflattering light. But not him. The ugly bright light made the store clerk look gaunt and hollow, like a tortured spirit, but positively ethereal. Dark curls framed his angular, angelic face. Graves wasn’t the kind of person to believe in love at first sight, but damn he was infatuated.

He trailed down the aisles, pretending to look at the merchandise all while sneaks glances at young man. However, he wasn’t here to meet his soulmate, he had a mission. He perused the aisles a bit more, grabbing a few items not to alert suspicion from the attendant. Finally, after determining they were the only ones in the small station, he decided it was time.

“Find everything alright?”

“Yes, thank you.” he said, placing his items on the counter as he flashed a purposely sparkling smile. “Just these please. Slow evening?”

“You have no idea.” the boy said with his own shy smile, scanning a package of zip ties.

Graves just watched as the cashier picked up the box of Magnum XL condoms then immediately flush a bright pink when he realized what they were. The boy looked up at Graves, a bit flustered from the obvious implications of the purchase, who just gave him a flirtatious wink and leaned onto the counter.

“And can I get a pack of Lucky’s?” he asked innocently enough. He watched him turn around, getting a better look at his ass before pulling his gun out from his side before the boy turned back. “And all of the money in the register.”

The cashier looked back to him a bit confused, before seeing the gun and it became abundantly to the poor boy to what was happening. He dropped the pack of cigarettes as he raised his hands. Graves watched as his adam’s apple bob as the boy named “Credence” by his nametag gasped for air, staring down the barrel of his gun. 

“Credence, huh? Unusual name. Pretty though.” he rasped, motioning with his gun. ‘Credence’ flinched as he moved the gun around carelessly. The clerk blinked and furrowed his brow, eyes darting to the floor. “Just please take the money,” he stammered, looking up at Graves with his big brown eyes. “ I-II cooperate, I’ll do anything. Just please don't kill me.”

“Anything, huh?” he flashed the boy a dangerous smirk and slowly approached him, rounding the counter. “Grab one of those plastic bags, right there, yeah,” he instructed as ‘Credence’ immediately complied. “And start emptying the register.”

He stepped right behind Credence and watched as the boy started opening the cash register and emptying the slots into the bag. Graves let his eyes eyes trailed their way over the rest of the boy’s body, down his neck to his back and svelte torso where his too tight of a shirt rode up, until a flash of red caught his eye. He pulled up the boy’s shirt a bit more so he could see. Credence froze underneath him. Angry lines criss crossing on the boy’s lower back. Graves clenched his jaw, riding out the a twang of anger he felt. 

“Your back, did someone give those to you, Credence?” he asked, trying to will his voice into a much softer tone.

The store clerk looked back at Graves like he just sprouted a second head. His dark eyes darted from Graves as if to confirm he did in fact ask a question. Finally, the boy summoned the courage to answer.

“Y-yes.”

“Who gave you those marks?” he asked, dangerously calm.

“M-my Ma did, sir.” he dropped eye contact and resumed emptying the register. 

“She do that often?”

“Only when I deserve it.” he muttered quietly. 

The distinct two tone chime went off signaling another presence in the small gas station rest stop before he could press further. Shit, he really didn't want to take a hostage but the situation was about to call for one. Percival turned to find a heavyset mustached man looking more than a little out of place. A glint of metal badge tucked slightly under the man’s muffin top caught his attention and he knew he had to act fast.

“I just needed to use the restroom, man.” He said as he put one of his hands up in defense. Out of the corner of Graves’ eye, he spotted his other hand reaching for his back pocket. 

“Shit.” He breathed as he quickly pulled Credence flush against him and wrapped an arm around the store clerk’s neck, pressing the barrel of his gun to the boy’s jugular before the poor kid could even register what was going on.

“Whoa! Sir, please calm down, there's no need for hurting anybody today.”

“Please, please, don’t do this. Don’t kill me, please!” the boy cried while pitfully clawing at his arm.

“Calm down, darling. You aren’t going to die tonight.” he hissed quietly, behind the shell of the boy’s ear, making sure only he could hear. “You let me leave with this boy and nobody gets hurt.”

“I’m afraid I can't let you leave with that boy as a hostage, sir.” the man tried, not lowering his gun.

“Yes you are. You see, I have to make sure you and your fellow officers don't go following me. If I have a hostage with me, you all have to be much more careful, don’t you? You don't want to be responsible for the death of this here young man, now do you, mister -?”

“Kowalski. Officer Jacob Kowalski of the 19th.” he said, visibly itching with nerves. “Sir, you are not making it easy on yourself, you already got attempted hold up and taking a hostage, do you really want to be charged with kidnapping and attempted murder, too?”

“Who says I’ll ever be caught?” He grinned as he cocked the gun. His hostage yelped and tried to pull away, but stopped when the barrel of his gun dug into his neck further. “Now, you are going to drop your gun, and kick it to the side, or else it's the end of the line for ‘Credence’ here, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. Just don't hurt him.”

A bark of laughter escaped him. “I won't hurt a hair on his head.” he promised dubiously, accentuating his every word by trailing his gun down the boy’s face. His hostage was obviously terrified out of his damn mind and part of him felt bad for doing this to some kid who obviously had enough problems at home. But hell if he was going to get caught by some desk duty pig with a gun.

The policeman knelt down and set his gun on the floor, hands up as he slowly returned to his short height. 

“Kick it.”

He complied and the gun skidded across the floor and lodged itself under a display of packaged bakery items. 

“Alright, now Credence is going to grab the zip ties from the counter and tie you up now, aren’t you baby?” 

“Mhmm.” the boy managed, still clinging to his forearm.

Graves dropped his arm and let go of Credence. The boy stumbled forward, like a puppet whose strings were cut, onto his hands and knees. Graves watched the boy carefully rip open the package with shaky hands. He still had his gun pointed at the back of his head, however his finger wasn’t on the trigger. After bending down to grab the discarded bag of cash from off the ground, he followed the boy close behind as he crawled in front of the cop, zip ties in his clutch. 

“Kowalski, is it?” he asked, not really caring for the answer. “Put your hands together for him, will you?”

The cop complied, looking at Credence apologetically while he fumbled with putting the zip tie around fat wrists. Must be killing the cop, to be humiliated like this, Graves thought, amused. 

“Thread another one of those through the zip tie ‘around his wrist and tie him up to the shelf. Don’t want him getting away too soon.”

Credence did just as he was told. Tying up the cop was the easy part. Now came the hard part. The perfect little helper is now his hostage, his insurance against the police. 

“Now, I’m going to leave here with the boy. If you try and stop me or if I see any cops, I will shoot him.” he advised, pulling Credence up from the ground, back against him. “Do you get it?”

“Loud and clear.” the cop said defeated and submissive. 

Graves stepped forward and the boy clumsily tried following his movements. He sidestepped over to the door, refusing to turn his back to the officer, despite already disarming him, staring him down for any signs of movement. Using his back, he pushed the door open as he made his exit into the dark parking lot. Both his and his hostage’s breaths were visible in the cold autumn night. 

His parked car was only a few meters from the door and as soon as they were in reach he threw his hostage over the hood, and pointed his gun at the boy's head. The boy grunted in pain and looked back at him in a sideways glance. 

“Give me your wrists.” He said roughly, turning his attention back to the cop looking helplessly lost back in the mini market. 

“Are you going to kill me?” He asked meekly beneath him.

“Not if you give me your wrists.” 

The boy compiled and crossed his wrists on the small of his back. He grabbed both of his slim wrists in his hand, set his gun on the hood, and pinned the hostage’s legs to the side of the car, underneath his own. His hand pushed the boy down over the hood of the car and rested impatiently on his neck to stop him from squirming as much. His thumb ran along the edge of the boy's jaw, an absent minded tic. Graves stole a zip tie and put it around his wrists. The boy silently winced after he pulled it tight. 

“Don't squirm in those, you’ll cut your blood circulation off.” He gruffed, while checking for signs of movement around him. When he deemed it to be safe and that the police officer hadn't moved or tried anything, he pulled the boy up from the hood roughly, back against him tightly. He grabbed his gun, pulled the hostage to the back of the car, and popped the trunk. Suddenly, the boy started protesting, twisting around to face him with utter terror. 

“Please, don't put me in there, I'll do anything, please!” He straight out begged, pleaded and groveled, trying to push a bony chest against his own. He wrenched his body away from Graves to face him. The panicked look on his face was pitiful, to say the least, and Graves didn't normally indulge himself on the feeling. But the sight in front of him admittedly struck a chord inside of him. 

Trembles shook the entirety of the poor boy’s thin frame, his cheeks were wet with tears already, and the gas station lighting made it known to Graves that his captive was still crying. “Please.” He pleaded one last time, trying to catch Graves eye.

Before Graves realized what he was doing, he took the boy's face in his hand and swiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb. He could feel the boy’s jaw go tense before somewhat relaxing into touch. 

“I’m sorry, darling.” He said as gently as he could muster, before bending over to place an arm behind his knees and one around emancipated shoulders, hauling him up before the boy could even react. But as soon as Graves started to set him down within the trunk, the boy started to thrash against his grip. 

Slamming the trunk didn't do much to calm his nerves much. He stormed over to his side of the car and got in, slamming the door shut. As soon as the car door closed and the car ignition flipped, he was skidding out of the parking lot at full speed with an unwilling passenger in the trunk, wheel squealing behind them, trying to forget the beautiful stranger tied up in his trunk.


	2. Chapter 2

An entry ramp onto an empty freeway was close by. An easy quick escape route free from obstacles. He choose this gas station specifically because it was close to this empty stretch of road. It was part of the plan. Credence was not. 

He entered probably forty miles above the speed limit, only slowing down after probably a mile or so. The last thing he wanted was to have more cops on his tail for something as idiotic as a speeding ticket. 

It was deadly silent within the car, only the dull roar of the highway. Every few minutes, Graves found himself looking over in the rearview mirror only to find an empty backseat. There was a weird pang in his chest, but he shoved it down, content on ignoring it.

Of course, he could just let the kid out at the next exit and drive away. That would be the easy way out. It felt wrong though, it didn't sit well with Graves. He saw the marks and here was no way that they were accidental or self inflicted. If he dropped him off somewhere, he could be dropping him back into his abuser’s clutches. 

He wanted to keep him, at least for a little while. Go up north to a small motel in meth ridden appalachia, where the owner would turn a blind eye to this. It was risky, people could recognize them, he could be sold out for bounty, the cops could find him, Credence could escape, etc. But having Credence as a hostage would mean the cops have to be more careful. Officer Kowalski wouldn't be free for a few hours which bought him only a few hours to get off the grid.

Graves hadn't realize he had been clutching the steering wheel so tight until his knuckles were white and in pain. He needed a quick breather, pulling off to the shoulder, and throwing it into park. He sat in the car, silent, staring at the dark road ahead which felt like a natural metaphor for the fucked up direction his life was barreling towards. 

Part of him wished that when he opened the trunk, the boy wouldn't be there, that it was all just a feverish dream. But sure enough, the trembling figure was looking straight up at him with glassy eyes and shaken to the core. 

“Are you going to kill me?” He asked in such a tone where it was apparent he had already made peace with his own demise.

Graves stared at him incredulously. “No.” He said after a few beats of silence. 

“I was going to see if you would like to come sit up front with me.”

“With you,” he said immediately, his throat bobbing nervously. 

“Come on then, get up.”

He pulled the boy up by the back of his arms, helping him unfurl his legs from under him. Credence stared at him uneasy as Graves tried not to stare back, It wasn’t until Graves looked down Credence did he realized the magnitude of what he had done. This boy was afraid of him. 

“Fuck,” he said, almost without realizing it. “I took you away, didn’t I? From your friends and family, your life. I didnt just steal the money, I stole you. I wasn’t even thinking.”

Silence, then;

“Are you letting me go?” 

Graves looked back down at him, with a pained smile.

“Not yet.”

Credence was silent for a bit after that. Must have scared him, he thought. He guided Credence to the passenger and let him in. The boy situated himself hastily, pulling his seatbelt across his chest and clicking it in to place. Graves rounded the houd and got back into the drivers seat. Moments later, they were on the road again.

“Where are we going?” Credence asked softly, breaking the silence. 

“I’ll drive til sunrise, then we'll stop somewhere for breakfast. You should sleep.” 

Credence huffed at the notation of sleeping after tonight’s events and shifted his body awkwardly so his back was to Graves. A slip of skin was visible which caught his attention. More red lines peaked out from a ridden up shirt. 

“It was your mother, right? Who gave you those marks?”

Credence feebly tried to pull his shirt down to cover it.

“Why do you care? Aren’t I just some inconvenience?”

Graves huffed a laugh and returned his eyes to the road.

“Because she shouldn't have done that. It doesn't matter what her kid did or didn't do, a mother shouldn't beat her child. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve those.” He muttered under his breath and tried shifting his focus back to the road, scanning his mirrors for red and blue, trying to ignore the fact that he didn’t deny that his life was in danger. Luckily Credence said nothing back, plunging the car back into silence. 

They drove for hours. They didn't say much and the car stayed in a tense silence. Graves assumed the boy had fallen asleep after the sob ridden shallow breathing had slowed to a soft murmur, and his body partially relaxed into passenger seat as much as his seatbelt would allow. 

He pulled into an empty lot just outside an exit, roughly three hours from the gas station that started it all. It was almost dawn, 5:53 by the count of his watch. Nicotine cravings were eating at him as well as the overwhelming stress from a heist gone wrong. He threw the car into park and got out, cigarettes and lighter in one hand. The lighter sputtered a few times before producing an adequate flame which he brought to the cigarette between his lips. As he inhaled, he felt the immediate flood of much needed nicotine to his system. Exhaling, he looked around at his surroundings.

On the horizon, the colors of dawn were slowly creeping their way into the dark sky, implying that a new day was not far behind. The tall grass by the overpass rippled as the early morning breeze brushed through the blades. He sucked one more breath of the almost finished cigarette before letting it drop to the ground. He stepped on it, just to make sure it was fully extinguished. 

He looked over the boy still in the car. Credence, his brain supplied. Credence was asleep, resting his head on the window. His convenience store vest was rumpled around his small frame, as his arms were crossed across his chest. His whole body was hunched over itself. He must be cold, he thought before taking off his own leather jacket. He leaned into the car and with as much delicacy as he could muster, he covered the small figure. Graves watched as the semi asleep figure pulled the jacket closer. He couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face. Graves knew he was selfish, that he was ruining this boy’s already shit life. But his mind was already set, he knew that boy was going to be his, at least for the next few weeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> first contribution to this fandom, yay


End file.
